


Harry Potter and the Light of the Moon

by The Summerfly (ProwlingThunder)



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Ronin Warriors
Genre: Adoption, Gen, Old Fic, culture clash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-05-15
Updated: 2010-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27039085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProwlingThunder/pseuds/The%20Summerfly
Summary: They hid their only offspring from Voldemort, and lost track of him. But now Date Tsukiyomi is coming to Hogwarts, and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy couldn't be happier. His friends will never forgive him.





	1. The Arrangements

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is INCOMPLETE. It is also ANCIENT. I may decide to rewrite it now that I'm older, have a better grasp on the material/plot, and a better writing voice. But who knows.

Koji Mia was a contented young redhead who worked as a historical and mythological professor at the local university. She was popular mostly because she managed to condense so many different subjects into interesting coursework, encouraging creativity and freethinking, and self-expression more then anything. But there was always something about Mia that seemed so sad...

The redhead was also tired.

The clocks read midnight, with the exception of the one on the wall above the door that had stopped at seven thirty two, back in ninety. All of Japan had felt, to some degree, Suzunagi's influence, drawing the armors back into the world. Her house, where they had been so long... She was surprised it had only been the clock. Was lucky it had only been the clock.

"You have an interesting collection."

And then there was that.

Mia eyed the title of the book the voice laid on her desk- she recognised the cover as one of the books from the set Ryo had gifted her from the Otherside in return for texts on Rekkashiro. It was a silkbook- the covers and every page. Firesilk, if she understood right. Old. A storybook- her favorite was about the man who chased the Sun when She fled a forced engagement. One of the good things about it was that the language of the distant phoenixes was that it was almost identical to modern Mandrian.

The saddest thing was, Mia recognised the voice from years ago. Ironically during the same time her wall-clock stopped, actually.

"Wen-san. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Wen Shian was a Chinese scholar she had met during the counsel. He too was a professor, but he himself was not the same. Of all things Mia had expected to find back in ninety, a secret world of wizards and witches was not one of them. Although she had to admit, she liked Shian. He was sweet and caring once you got down to the bare bones, and he had stubbornly defended her place among the counsel back then.

Shian watched her, thin lips pulled into a wry smile, and skin as white as bone china, almost aglow in the dim light of her workroom. He looked entirely at home- she wasn't sure he belonged with that yellow tie, however. Polkadots did not do a young businessman any good, and western attire did even less on Shian.

"I need a bit of a favor, Koji-san." That tone told Mia she needed to pay more attention, and reluctantly, she pushed her keyboard away to focas on his words instead of sapphire eyes. He was handsome- antisocial to the degree where he only ever came out if he wanted something, but handsome made up for most bad traits.

"A favor that involves my storybooks?"

Now he looked sheepish. "Ah.. no. Not quite. Are you aware of what is occuring in the European Isles?"

"I'm afraid I don't focas on world events." She probably should have, after that bizarre conferance. But nothing had seemed particularly pressing five years ago, and she wasn't inclined to go too far out of her sphere of influence. She liked her influence, her world, in a nice tight little bow of myths that were not quite so mythical.

Like Shian's hair. How did he get it to hook in that crown? Hair should not sit that way without an ungodly amount of hairspray and styling jelly.

"Then may I badger you for a cup of coffee?"

"Of course. Suger?"

"Please."

Mia grinned.

-x-x-x-

They stayed up until three discussing foreign troubles and possible solutions, and when the coffee stopped working, Mia put the Chinaman up in one of the guest rooms, carefully avoiding the ones that belonged to the guys. She only got a few hours of sleep, getting roused again about six o'clock, when the phone stuffed under her pillow screamed something about an incoming call. She would have ignored it, save for the name it was blaring.

"Nnngg...Yulie?"

"Mia, there are no schools that actually teach magic, are there?"

Now she was regrettibly awake. "What?"

Thirty minutes later, Mia was shaking Shian awake and wondering why she hadn't gotten dressed. "Wen-san! Wake up!"

Yulie was a worrying teenager. He was unique in that he always wore the Jewel of Life, even to his kendo matches, but the trouble was not in that Yulie wore it nor it's fantastical adoption of him. It was that he had received a letter at dawn asking him to attend the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the very school they had been discussing mere hours before. So of course she was worried.

Yulie... was still human, at least in ways that mattered. But it was like the Ancient had been human, and Kayura was human. They were, and they weren't. Mia wondered if every adult member of the Ancient's clan had bleached-white hair, if every member had been sheer forces of nature. Because Mia had seen Kayura fight, and she had seen pure energy explode from Yulie's fingertips when he was in danger, after the Jewel of Life. Rowen had explained that it had tweeked his DNA, aligned more to Kayura's then what it should have been. He hadn't told Yulie himself, but the bluenette had confided to Mia and the others that Yulie's parents now had very little to do in his development.

Mia had done enough research about the Ancient people of Nara to know what that meant. And sending what could possibly the most powerful non-demonic teenager in Japan to a school that couldn't protect its students from themselves, little lone other entities...

It just wasn't a smart idea.

"Wen-san!"

Blue eyes blinked at her, all vision of sleep gone, and he was watching her. It was rather unnerving, and Mia forced herself to draw back, to relax. Shian as an antisocial sort, as he had made abundantly apparent back in ninety during the Conferance.. He didn't like to be touched. He would tolerate you talking to him for hours on end, as long as you didn't expect anything back. As long as you didn't want a reaction.

Mia kept her hands where he could see they were empty, and tried not to look when he sat up and she realised he wasn't wearing the offered sleep-shirt.

"Wen-san, I need to know everything you know of Hogwarts. Please," She added, when his guarded expression told her the answer was no. "I'll tell you everything."

Shian raised an eyebrow, and Mia hoped he knew how important a bargain this really was. But Yulie's life was more important. Shian had already told her that Hogwarts did not take 'No' for an answer. Mia wasn't going to let him go without a fight, and she was going to fix the odds. She had faced down the former Emperor of the Dynasty; Hogwarts frightend her, and she may not have had the help of another blood, but she was stubborn. Whatever Shian asked for could never amount to what he was going to give her.

"Make a pot of coffee, Shi Nu. I will tell you."

-x-x-x-

"-and then BAM-

"-never thougth I'd see-"

"-big as a house-"

"-tried making Amazon's Tonic-"

Platform Nine and Three Quarters, known to most as the very place to catch the Hogwarts Express, was a mind-boggling site to the three foreigners standing just shy of the entrance. The huge, scarlet steam engine at the far end set the bright, imposing color for the rest of the cars, all of which reminded the three of them of Cale's favorite cloak. And the amount of people!

With a disbelieving expression, Yamano Yulie looked over at their present chaperone, shifting a bit uneasily in these modern clothes. For the last eight years, he had been happily wearing traditional garb, and now the jeans and teeshirt were tight and chafing, and the collar felt like it was choking him, so he kept tugging on it. "Mashimizu-sensei?"

For the last year, Cye had been his teacher and Kayura had been... a student teacher. While Yulie hadn't known the accuracies during the War, he had quickly learned what was polite and what was downright wrong to do in public. Alone, in just the group of them, he would have called Cye the name he'd known him by forever. But Cye was a proud Samurai, and this was a crowd of foreigners who could not understand that calling him by 'Cye' was a sign of close, personal friendship and respect. So his Samurai name and the title of being his teacher went instead, because Cye would likely train him into the ground if he did otherwise.

"Yes?"

"Are these people suffering from Fox Madness?" Which was a perfectly reasonable question, even if nobody was foaming from the mouth or rolling on the ground.

And judging by Cye's wry smile, he knew it, too. After the Hogwarts letter had arrived, Cye had taken him aside for extra lessons which boggled his brain. Nobody who underwent samurai training even started learning English until late in the third year of apprenticeship, if they ever learned at all. It just wasn't necessary. And Yulie had been late to the Dojo, so he was still within his first year of training, so the foreign tongue had not been a part of the curriculum until then.

He hadn't had long to learn, but he got the bare basics. And he was gleeful that Ryuu was also present, because heaven forbid he speak to someone suffering from the madness and get infected, too.

"No," But he was grinning, and that was a plus. "But be careful, anyway. There are things just as bad as Fox Madness here in Europe. And you will do well if you take all their words with a grain of salt if you don't understand them, the both of you. Shukijo-san should be able to answer anything- he'll be waiting for you when you get to the castle," Yulie had almost forgotten Seiji, and he lit up at the mention. The man had been heavy influence for him, and had even been his teacher in the Dojo. "But if he can't, write to me and I will see what I can do to explain."

"Yes, Sensei."

"That goes for both of you." Cye added, shooting a pointed look at Ryuu, who managed a just-so smile of the Date expressions and nervously ran his fingers through his pale hair. And even though the platform was still terribly crowded, and they had at least an hour before the train was due to pull out, the Mouri man looked worried and ushured them at the train. "We should get you two settled before the cars fill up. Come on, lets go."

"Hay Tsukiyomi, do you have the latest copy of Cyber Stalker He for the train?"

"I do not." Yulie had sorely missed the sound of Ryuu's voice through the year. In the Dojo, they had been all but the best of friends, and the seperate on opposite sides of Hanshu made it difficult for them to get together. Letters and small gifts had been their only communication, because despite being lightning, Sage was firm about his belief of limited to no technology.

Which meant no phones.

But despite it all, Rowen's manga, Cyber Stalker He was a favorite of both of theirs. Rowen regularly sent Yulie the latest issues, and Yulie managed to get them to Ryuu through the mail. The fact that Ryuu looked so mournful about not having it for what was going to be an incredibly long train ride made Yulie grin. "I do."


	2. Teacher, Teacher, I declare!

The faculty meeting had been expected to be easy. Date Seiji had very little to do with the majority of the school's troubles, and he had intended to meditate on his first lesson-plan. Due to the history of his particular class, and the history of the school in general, he had managed to argue a three-day mandatory course each week. It was less then he had wanted, perhaps, and while the details of his occupation here were sketchy at best, the Headmaster had promised no other teacher would interfere with his class. He hadn't been quite pacified, but it had helped ease his mood until the man had revealed a pleasant surprise.

They had built a dojo on the grounds.

Coupled with weekends, Seiji was going to proudly work his students into the ground. It would be a mass class, of course, and he already had much of the pecking system worked out. He had spent the last three days throwing up wards, nets, barriers and a rather nastily coalition of alarm systems to keep out anything with ill intent that could possibly intend to harm his students. He had stitched part of it to the Youjikai, giving him a proper training yard to work with, and tackled that barrier system proper. With a mass of two hundred and eighty students, which very much included his own student and nephew, they would need the space. Even after he broke them into four divisions, and fourteen squads of five, it was still invariably a good deal of children of various ages. It would be tricky, yes, but he had commanded armies before.

No, his real problem was that the faculty meeting was not the relaxation he had expected. Oh, for the first half of it, certainly, but halfway through a short, plump woman in garish pink that would burn Illusion's own eyeballs. That color was meant to be on little girls of three and younger. No grown woman had the right to wear such a shade.

It wouldn't have been so bad if he had remained unnoticed. He had settled against a wall, leaning on the masonry. It was late and he was tired; the sun had already set. So he hadn't paid much mind when she walked in, introducing herself to Dumbledore and the rest of the staff like she meant it. It was, honestly, Dumbledore's own fault he'd not been overlooked in the first place.

"Ah, Delores; I'm afraid the post for Defense Against Dark Arts has already been filled."

She turned then, glancing at each member of the staff pointedly as she spoke. "Wonderful... Who is this teacher?"

"Why, a visitor from Japan." Seiji frowned faintly, barely visible to onlookers, but didn't dare shift from his position against the wall. Though his hand did grab the tanto in his sleeve, on the off-chance she did something. "We are being loaned a teacher by the Chrysanthemum Throne. Delores, this is Shukijo Date."

In retrospect, telling Dumbledore his name in the first place might have been a bad idea. But Seiji had been being simply polite, and it was too late to think better of it. And, of course, as Dumbledore turned to look at him, so too did the unusual woman, and something coiled in his belly when he caught site of her eyes. Chocolate, which was a human enough color, but Seiji was far more perceptive then that; her pupils were horizontal slits, and narrowed so thin he was surprised she could perceive shapes at all.

Neither of them smiled, though the woman kept her tone light enough. Seiji was sincerely glad for the very first time that Cye had not taken this post, no matter how much they had argued over it. Neither had wanted to come, but they had not wanted the other to go. Cye had been fairly determined to find a way that would remove them from the trouble, and Seiji could understand that. Europe was not his territory, and he could, theoretically, whisk Yulie off to the Dynasty. It was well within his rights as Emperor, though there would be questions given the adult name the boy had taken when he'd graduated.

Kaosu Seijin would cause anybody to pause. Kaosu more then others, especially in the Youjikai where the Ancient was loathed more then most, but Seijin as well. Seiji still had a bit of trouble wrapping his mind around the name he had taken, since it was close to his own, and he wasn't sure if that had been Yulie's motive or not. But he had consented to it, none the less.

Seiji was less inclined to sit idly by while a war of ignorance waged in such a place where his talents and knowledge may well help. But he still had not wanted to come; he was Date-sama, the clan leader. As the head of the family, certain things were expected of him- such as remaining in the country where the rest of the clan could find him as necessary. Coming to teach here had also meant leaving behind his dojo and the lessons he taught. New dojo-masters were hard to break in, to find a style that suited the student's needs. In the end though, Seiji simply hadn't been able to let it go; people were dying, others were doing nothing of it, and for some odd reason, Mia had explained, everybody seemed to think these school children were the sole saving grace of humanity.

And Seiji would be a fool to let children face a war unprepared.

Still, a small part of him regretted that choice now, because there was nothing quite odd enough to match being glared at by someone with the blood of an amphibian. It wasn't in his nature, however, to bend to anyone any longer. Though, judging by her jewelry, he couldn't say she did not eat cats, and resolved to do his best to see that, while she did not starve, none of the student's pets went missing.

"Shukijo, my boy, this is Delores Umbridge."

She didn't offer a hand for him to shake, and he didn't bow in greeting, no matter how impolite it seemed. Neither smiled, and for a long moment, they just watched each other, searching for weaknesses and strengths alike as they looked the other over.

This was a woman who needed to be watched at all times; he could feel it in his bones. He would not make the mistake of not watching her. Oh, physically she wasn't much of a threat. He had noticed already that few of this magical community were. The potions teacher, Severus Snape- yes, there was training in his muscles, and power hidden beneath dark clothes that came from hard work and carefully keeping himself in shape. Delores Umbridge.. Her lack of physical skills was disturbing, but she exuded the belief of superior skill and confidence that she would be victorious, that she had power over everyone.

It took everything Seiji had not to raise hackles at the challenge she was throwing at him. He would be polite even if it killed him. Though if they fought, it was she who was far more likely to fall; he was Light and Lightning, one of the quickest of the armor-bearers in speed, visible only at night and when he stopped moving. Corruption matched him, but barely; if he and Cale had ever truly been attempting to kill one another, experience alone would have saved the wolf. He had no doubt, that like most of their bouts, a real fight would have resulted in a stalemate. If he and this woman fought, even the best luck in the world would not save her, and that thought prompted him to shift, settling a hand on the wakazashi at his hip.

The motion caused her eyes to widen fractionally before narrowing, and he was not certain how she had missed the blade to begin with, nor the hilt over his shoulder. Even in armed conflict, few missed the tell-tale form of a nodachi. Though startling few in the modern era seemed to noticed. It was... sad. So much history forgotten, so much potential gone unknown, or worse, wasted. And Umbridge's bearing only promised more of the same. It raked against Seiji's own teachings and upbringings, and he could not bring himself to agree with it.

It seems I will be at odds with you this year, Umbridge-san. He thought, even as she finally looked away, back at Dumbledore. Seiji had the feeling she thought much the same thing, and instinctively felt bad for the rest of the teaching staff. Their conflict would no doubt cause endless troubles through the year. When trouble began, he would need to make certain they were aware not to help him. Tricky as coming here had been, he had permission of the Emperor Himself to be here, and all the political amnesty that provided. They had no such protections.

"Be that as it may, Headmaster, I still have a job to do. The Minister is extremely worried about the test scores of last year's OWL and NEWT exams."

"Ah yes." Seiji narrowed his eyes. That sounded like trouble all on it's own, and seemed to become much, much worse when Dumbledore turned to address the rest of the faculty. "Delores is here to judge school and teacher performances. I'm sure she will find nothing."

Dumbledore did not fool him. Seiji had enough life experience to know the woman would most certainly find something, even if she had to make it up. Anyone who looked hard enough would, even if there was really, truly, nothing to find. And no one could tell him that he was being paranoid, because the blond knew better. Umbridge did not move as if she had training in any proper arts, but he knew the gleams of spies well, from lifetimes ago. She had been sent to watch the school and it's staffing, and Seiji knew that much, at least, was justified. The very class he was meant to teach had not held a master for more then a year, counting back to a matter of three decades. It was a horrid record, and one that Seiji felt he should break. And even still, he had learned from Mia the events of most recent years, including an underage student in an adult's tournament.

The whole of Europe seemed to be forgetting the youth were it's future. But Seiji, Japan, would not let them throw the children away like last year's silkworms. Even the graduates of this school would barely survive in the real world, and he was a samurai. It was his duty and honor to teach in the dojo, to count his brother Ryuu as his apprentice, and more to the point, he could not throw these things away simply because he was not at his own dojo. Dumbledore had seen to it he had one here, and it would shame Hachiman-jin for Seiji to shirk his duties.

Even if he had to fight every other person to get the job done.

X-X-X-X-X-X

Ryuu wasn't sure what he was doing. He just knew it was a really tricky thing to do.

Truth was, he really wasn't meant to be on this train. This train was the Hogwarts Express, running from London all the way out to the mountains of Scotland, for children and young adults attending the school in question. For Yulie, as well. But Ryuu had neither a Hogwarts letter nor a Hogwarts robe, the latter of which he was grateful for as the Hogwarts robes Yulie had been given were an inky black in color, and the biggest thing they did for Yulie was make him look like a ghost.

Instead, Ryuu wore a proper Date yukata and had papers. Emphasis on papers. Transfer papers, legal papers, birth papers, Imperial stamped papers, guardian papers, signed papers, and one really interesting paper that the Ticket-Taker had glared at when he had presented it instead of a train ticket. Though really, it was English, and he had enough trouble speaking the language that he wasn't even going to try reading it.

They parted on the train, he and Yulie; while Yulie slipped off to the call of a giant of a man, Ryuu was accosted the moment he stepped off the train by a woman with graying hair, wrapped up in a robe of an even deeper green then the Date called their own. That, he decided, was likely a magical thing, and did not bother feeling jealousy over the fact; the Date preferred the green of fresh-budding spring to emerald, which was simply a too rich, too expensive, color for their tastes. And emerald did not match the rest of the colors the Date heralded, the white and gold and brown. Though the old Witch did not seem to be fond of it, but Ryuu did not rightly care. So long as she said nothing- for no European had a right to say anything- he would remain equally quiet on the matter.

The left the station platform and followed a path into the woods, before she turned to him and held out a string. "Grab hold."

This, Ryuu had had explained to him by Shukijo-sensei before. Because he had not been invited to attend Hogwarts himself, but because Shukijo-sensei was to be a teacher here this year, it had been arranged that Ryuu would take the part of student-teacher. As a result, he would sit with the faculty during dinner, and had been allowed to sign up for electives. The only mandatory class was Shukijo-sensei's own, called, ridiculously, Defense Against Dark Arts. But in order to sit with the teachers at the feast tonight, he would have to use a Portkey. Which could, apparently, be anything from a scrubbing brush to the old string the woman now held.

Ryuu eyed the string, unconvinced, before reaching out to grasp it. Shukijo-sensei would be most displeased if he did not arrive in time, and the last thing he wanted to do at all was upset his teacher. Samurai could not afford to be late.

Annoyed, mostly at the string, Ryuu grabbed hold.

The sense of vertigo made him sick to his stomach, so different then every other mode of transportation that Ryuu would have been positively thrilled to travel by absolutely any other means. Even the train, which he had loathed to such a degree it was ridiculous. But when it settled and he could focus clearly, he was surprised to find himself surrounded by stone walls, and intensely grateful for the familiar figure of Shukijo-sensei. The tails of his haori were most welcome, and Ryuu straightened, making sure his weapons were all in place. He'd not be mussed or flustered, not in the presence of his Master.

"Tsukiyomi-kun."

A welcome, familiar honorific of acknowledgment, and Ryuu bent into a proper bow of greeting at the sound of his mother-tongue. He could feel the strange woman's eyes on him, but he didn't let his attention linger on her. She was unimportant right now. "Sensei."

"Stand, Tsukiyomi-kun. Your place is with me."

"Yes, sensei."

He felt the woman frown deeper. Ryuu ignore it, straightening as he moved to stand beside his elder. He knew Shukijo-sensei's child name- Shukijo-sensei was, in fact, his own honored elder brother, Seiji. But while he had been permitted to call his brother that when they were young, when Seiji had graduated the dojo himself, his name, too, had changed. Ryuu no longer used it except on rare occasions. When he had graduated the dojo, and Seiji had taken him under his wing, sensei was tacked on appropriately. After Grandfather's death... well, if Seiji were not his sensei, Ryuu would be relatively unable to call him by anything except Date-dono.

Westerners could read into it what they liked. Ryuu knew his boundaries, and what was expected of him.

"Come." Ryuu knew the hidden urgency in his Master's voice, silently prompting him to hurry. And he knew why it was there, as well; soon, students would begin to arrive in the Great Hall, and for a teacher to arrive late did not provide a good example.

Still, he couldn't help but be amazed that the elder was awake, so long after the sun had hidden itself.


	3. But The Truth Sounds Like A Lie

There was something in his head. In his mind, slinking around like a snake in effort to poke around unnoticed at his thoughts. Trying to root up all his secrets.

Yulie could feel it.

It made him sick.

He swallowed past the hard lump of bile in his throat and tried to breath, half desperate to deduce the source of this attack. It was hard; there was nothing around that should have been able to slip past his notice to even get inside. But there was so much to hide; so many secrets he called his own, and secrets that were not his own. Things he had been trusted with, that did not belong to minds outside his own.

But it was in, slipping past traps and triggers quietly, ghosts of footsteps in his mind. Too close. Too deep.

Yulie knew his own mind well; it had been Sage, not Cye, who had taught him the gentle intricacies of the mind. Who had made him learn every cobweb and dust-drenched hall, and how to bend the shape to fling intruders away. He knew how, but a faceless enemy...

Beneath worn cloth, Yulie let out a deep breath and furrowed his brow, tucking the deepest, darkest secrets beneath to his breastbone and against his heart. Slammed doors of vanilla secrets closed, and felt the intruder begin to pay real attention. Touching cold digits against stone walls, and hunting for what should never be found. At once he twisted the hallways; loops and curls, and sharp corners in flagstone.

This was his mind, not a playground for intruders, and Yulie knew intimately the shape which guarded secret treasures. His treasures. They were his treasures, and open to no one except himself, he decided; gripped his robes so tight his knuckles turned white, and let the dragon rush his faceless enemy.

"Get out!"

The Sorting Hat hit the floor with a dull thud.

Yulie gulped in warm air, distantly aware that he could barely hear the thunderous roar of applause over the sound of his own heartbeat. That truly did not surprise him as much as it probably should have; there had been hooks dug in deep as the strange entity had tried to keep it's hold, and it had taken effort to cast it out. At least.. it felt like it was gone. It did.

He took in another breath and pushed himself up from the stool on shaky legs, decidedly not looking at the the faculty even though he desperately wanted to see Seiji's face.

Seiji couldn't help him now. And Halo wouldn't.

A pair of redheads slip apart for him to slip between them and collapse onto the bench, the cacophony slowly dying down around him. He thought he might have heard the next Transfer student called before the duet beside him caught his attention, and at once he felt homesick all over again when he caught site of all the red.

Ryou...

"You alright, mate? You look bloody awful."

The sharp grooving in his mind ached. Yulie almost cradled his head in his hands, but decided the movement was far too much trouble to be worth the effort. It took much more to remember to respond in kind. "I feel such that way." He admitted, and then hesitated a moment longer. "I will recover."

x0x0x0x0x0x

One good thing about being a Transfer student was that he got his own room. Most likely because he had been the only one of a dozen-odd students to end up in Gryffindor, but the last thing Yulie had enough capacity to do was wonder why right now.

He hadn't gotten much sleep. Part of it was because he hadn't been tired, but part of it was because his paranoia had set it. He had spent most of the night going through whatever the stranger had been in, making sure nothing damning had been seen.

Even still, when he felt the sun rise high enough to cast warm light in his window, he felt indefinitely better. If out of place, but that was to be expected, too. The House of the Red Lion was a strange place, with none of the old, traditional styles Yulie had become accustom and familiar with. If he had of felt the least bit comfortable with it, he would have felt terrified.

Yulie tossed yesterday's Hogwarts robes aside and tugged on fresh ones, letting the Heart of the Ancient's settle his nerves for several long moments before he tucked it beneath his clothes. He'd had the stone necklace for so long now that it was hard to remember what life had been like before it, but he had been young then, and eager for a niche in the world. The consequences of what he had done had not sank in for some time, and by then... Well. Yulie had never been eager to let things go, for better or worse.

A sharp rap on his door drew him out of his morning preparations, as much of the ritual as he could be given. Cye had old, polished bronze in his home, and Seiji had no mirrors to speak of. His Hogwarts room had been graced with a single, full-length mirror of glass, and it was beyond distracting. Back home, he and Kayura pulled one another's hair into a proper topknot in the mornings, in a show of trust and comrade. Now, he did his hair alone, and one hand was tangled in black locks to hold it in place when he heard knuckles drag across the frame.

He opened the door at once, twisting the knob with enough force that the metal groaned beneath his fingers.

But there Ryuu stood on the other side of the wood, gray eyes sharp and piercing as a dagger's tip, and it pinned Yulie to the floor at once. He remained perfectly still as the other looked him over, and then let out a sigh as his friend gave a satisfied nod. "Seijin-kun."

You are still whole, he heard underneath the other's tone. Still alive. Still here. Thank the Gods.

It made him smile reflexively, apologetically. Last night's Sorting must have scared the Date as much as it had scared him. "Tsukiyomi-kun." I am, I swear. But not for lack of trying. Yulie motioned him inside and closed the door in a semblance of privacy they didn't really need. But it made Yulie feel better, and that was that.

Ryuu wore dojo robes, the proper green and gold for the family's school. It looked good on him, rich and healthy, except for the crest on the breasts that Yulie knew did not belong. Ryuu passed him a hairbrush, and Yulie inclined his head to him. "That's a nice mon." What did Hogwarts do to your clothes?

The other's face pulled a fraction, twitched in a way that Yulie knew meant he was so far from pleased it wasn't even funny. Which told him exactly how Sage had taken it when he had woken up this morning. The Date's sparrow and bamboo kamon had been replaced by the Hogwarts shield and coat of arms, and Yulie knew the castle would not be safe until it was fixed. "...yes. Sensei went to have words with the Headmaster about it."

He vaguely recalled the old man in the center of the faculty table, watching him after he had settled post-Sorting. Yulie had kept the dragon bound and tensed just incase another attack were to occur, and he still felt the dull headache that had resulted from it, and as a result could draw up no sympathy for him at all.

"I was fixing to head down to breakfast. Want to come with me?"

Ryuu's lips pulled into a flicker of an amused smile, and Yulie counted himself victorious. "Let me fix your hair first. Then you may make me some tea."

x0x0x0x0x0x

By the end of breakfast, Ryuu's robes were back to being properly adorned, several of the professors looked like they had gotten very rude awakenings, and Sage looked altogether too pleased of himself. Yulie considered it a win on their part.

In retrospect, the rest of the Hogwarts faculty did not seem to be too horribly intelligent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dozen odd – Twelve and one, or a baker's dozen. Another way of saying 'thirteen'.  
> -kun – An honorific speaking of familiarity. Sexed: -kun for boys and -chan for girls  
> Mon – The insignia of a faction/social group/family group/army/school  
> Kamon – The insignia of a family/the family crest  
> Sensei – "Teacher", roughly


End file.
